


Back to Silence

by elfriniol



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-15 01:19:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5766499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfriniol/pseuds/elfriniol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reunion with Quiet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back to Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Getting Quiet back in the game is just for the sake of gameplay, so I added some (not a grand Kojima-esque, okay, but SOME) story. I think they have a very tight bond. Also this is totally self-indulgent cause I really like Quiet and I was desperate after "Quiet Exit" and it takes place in central Asian ruins (I'm a fan of the region's history).
> 
> If I'm off with the parasite-related stuff, I'm sorry. It's been a few months since I listened to Code Talker's tapes and, uhh, I just wanted to write the fic without spending hours researching, okay? I get easily distracted :D
> 
> Also I swear that "D-Horse" is the most awkwardest name for a horse EVER.
> 
> Feel free to visit [my tumblr](http://mini-mantis.tumblr.com/).

"You're out of the hot zone. Mission complete, Boss."

Static of his radio hummed in his ear, a fitting soundtrack for galloping through the whispering Afghan dunes. He looked over his shoulder at the camp he left behind; it sat in a crevice between mountains like an ugly toad with wart-riddled skin. No sign of pursuers or heightened security. He calmed the horse into a trot. "Done for today?"

The static crinkled, like grains of sand between teeth. "There's not much else - nothing our scouts couldn't do. Should I send you a chopper?"

"Not yet." It came out of his mouth faster than he had intended to. "Just gonna check something."

He thought he heard Kaz sigh at the other end. Shadow of guilt crossed his mind, too fast to linger but too slow to forget. At least Kaz didn't ask questions. "Fine. Call whenever you're done." The static crunched and went dead.

Snake looked at the sky, that infinite, impossibly dazzling blue stretching from east to west, from north to south. Sun told him it was late afternoon. Urging D-Horse on, he left the side road, crossed the ravine, waded through the slow, near-dry river, hooves splashing and slipping on slick stones. An impressive mountain range towered to his right, unchanging and majestic. His destination lies right behind it, below its northern slopes.

Birds caw in the distance - he's nearly there. It's an unusual mixture of stubbornness, sadness, guilt, denial, longing, and wishful thinking that draws him to that place over and over again, like some sort of a magnet. He realizes his foolishness and rolls his eyes at himself every time he sets foot there, yet is unable to leave it behind. _Our dreams do not come true,_ says a familiar voice, and he can't stifle the bitter, razor-sharp laugh running past his lips.

Within minutes he reaches the last turn and returns to the road there. Every time he enters the ruins from this side he has a strong sense of déjà-vu and waits to hear the thunderous, echoing shot that barely missed him that day. He had to dive off his horse onto the hard, rocky ground and stick to the collapsed ancient column few feet away. The memory makes him hold his breath, but that is all it is. A memory.

He's greeted by ringing silence, not gunfire. All he can do is laugh at himself again.

The ruins are nearly the same as he left them last time. Mysterious, heavy with secrets. Scarred and maimed remains of better days, reminder that something once was here but isn't anymore. He knows that feeling all too well, during uneventful days when fingers of his left hand prickle and hurt. The ruins are that way too, and for him yet another face of phantom pain. Evidence of absence.

Sounds of her not there.

Flapping wings bring him back to present. It's the large, white bird with distinctive bright-orange beak. Oriental stork. They stick to this area as if it were their home - Snake hasn't seen them anywhere else. It's another unique trait of the ruins. He dismounts to walk amidst the scattered, broken blocks of stone, as if to follow that peculiar fowl, and his mind gets lost in sea of thoughts yet again. Surroundings do not help - from time to time he can see a bullet-hole in the rubble. Few times he sees a casing from a fired round. Running water hums in the background. The emptiness he perceives with his senses seeps through his veins and his throat feels like smouldering coal. It happens every time he's here.

Slowly he makes his way up the gentle slope, to the place what must have once been a main road bustling with life. Now its only embellishment is a mutilated colonnade, stumps turned in prayer towards the heavens. To his left stands the majestic arch he knows quite well. That's the place from where he almost got shot.

It seemed a lifetime ago.

Splashes of water disrupt the tranquility and Snake stills. It's not the river - that flows too far. It has to be the pool, that shallow square etched in the withered rocky earth.

Snake doesn't waste time. Rifle in hand, he creeps closer, keeps to the shadows and crumbling pillars, ready to pull the trigger if he must. However, nothing could prepare him for the confrontation.

Because it's her in the pool. With hair let loose instead of a ponytail (and slightly longer than he remembers), with few more holes in her tights, with few more scratches on her shoulders. But it is her.

Forgetting stealth, caution, gun, _everything_ , Snake takes few clumsy steps towards the apparition. It takes two meters more for her to notice, and the moment she sees him she dissolves in thin air, as she did so many times before.

_"Quiet!"_

Dust flying into the air and sound of running feet is his response, but this isn't like the last time. This time he's not lying on the ground like a sack of dead meat, paralyzed by snakebite. This time he can make a difference. There's a wet trail and cloud of dust on the cliffs right in front of him - the high mountain range. Without further delay he starts climbing.

The stones are loose in the dry soil and his going is slower than he'd like. There are few goat paths, but they end too soon or go elsewhere than he needs to go. It doesn't take long and Snake's facing a steep wall of stone with no way round. He curses, but doesn't give up. Why is she so keen on getting rid of him, he asks himself as he's slowly ascending the cliff. There aren't many cracks or rocks to grab. He chances a glance down and finds he's about 70 feet above the ground. Great. Up he continues, like some giant spider.

It happens when he's within arm's reach of the top - the rock beneath his left foot gives way and his hands dangerously slip. Taken by surprise, Snake tries to regain his footing, but to no avail.

He's gone too far to let it all go now.

He knows Quiet is just past the cliff's edge.

But he can't hold on any longer. He braces himself for the fall-

  


Strong hand pulls him up by his forearm, fingers squeezing so tight they leave bruises. Snake, surprised, sloppily crawls on the flat platform, to lift some of his weight off his saviour's arm. Quiet sits on her knees before him. She looks angry and relieved and happy and just so damn uncertain, all at the same time, and Snake is too overwhelmed by the fact he's seeing her again that he doesn't say a word.

It's now, as the wind gently wipes Quiet's hair away from her neck, he notices somewhat healed gash on her throat; the tender skin flushed deep crimson and sickly violet, serrated lines disrupting the smooth surface. It looked like a poor surgery done with a combat knife. His breath catches and he awkwardly raises his hand to touch that wound, as if he could erase it. She flinches, but lets him.

He knows there's no way to remove the parasites once they're inside their hosts. He's well aware of their mutations and the threat they pose. He knows, logically, rationally, that this was the only way and that thanks to (ironically) _other_ parasite treatment Quiet managed to survive that desperate measure, which she probably performed herself.

Why then did it hurt him so much to feel the scars with his fingers?

She leaned into his touch, and Snake slowly pulled her into an embrace. Not tight and confining, mind you - just enough pressure to assure her he's by her side. He felt her relax. Even if nothing was the same as it used to be, he felt strangely at peace; there was no anger, no guilt, no hatred. Just exhaustion, and a sad smile curving his lips.

 _Please come back with me - it's all over now,_ he wants to say. Instead he holds on tighter.

She squeezes his shoulder, as if she knew.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment! And how does it end? They learn sign language and live happily ever after (well at least until Outer Heaven).


End file.
